


I'll always be there when you wake

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [89]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Companionable Snark, Grinding, HYDRA Husbands, Hand Jobs, Human/Monster Romance, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Marking, Older Man/Younger Man, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Scent Marking, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: There was always something wrong going on, most of the time Jack was something right.





	I'll always be there when you wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).

> Happy Treats hun! <3

Brock dares to take a peek at his father sprawled out asleep on his favorite armchair, one hand clutching tight to a full bottle of beer sitting trepidatiously against the edge of his knee. His shoulder hurts from fighting with him a few hours ago, eye still fucking stinging from the fight the night before on top of it. Despite all that, the house key felt heavy in his hand as he turned away from him.

“Where’re you going?” A slurred voice suddenly demanded and Brock froze, inches from the front door.

He swallowed, weight shifting a little as he braced himself. “Out.”

“Okay.” Was all his father said, and then he heard the soft thud of his head falling back against the headrest again. 

The silence stretches out before him, lingering and waiting for one last word,  _ something _ his dad always had to twist in before Brock took off.  _ You bring in one of those ‘frocio’ home and I’ll kill the both of you. _ He holds open the door and slips out, waiting for a step before he slams it closed. He’s already across the lawn when the heavy lock turns behind him to secure it. Brock wishes he didn’t hear the chain slip on next. 

_ And there’s the twist. _

Brock shoves his hands into his pockets and walks, pulling his hood over his head and there’s a roll of fog coming in from the east. He only walks towards it because he knows he’s not coming back for the rest of the night, he needs an escape, maybe the maw of it will consume him and nothing would matter anymore for him.

There are small noises he collects, ones that don’t worry him to look for, though the streets lay abandoned. The woods beckon him in and soon he takes a right towards them, towards most of where anything he picks up comes from. 

His backpack feels heavier; a collection of clothes, food and various other supplies towing in after him and it’s kind of ironic he’s following the danger instead of moving away from it. He uses his phone’s flashlight feature to keep from stumbling through and no matter what happens, he’s set to continue going deeper.

The laughter breaks out from his chest out of nowhere and a small wetness slips from his eyes as he rubs at his face in one quick swipe with the back of his hand. Just a few more months, then he’s out of high school and away from all this mess. No one can drag him back and restrain him to this god awful town and he’s getting as far away as he humanly can when it’s possible.

As quickly as his pain comes, he pushes it aside, walking past branches attempting to reach out for him and he has to keep moving, even if he doesn’t know exactly why.

His skin prickles as the wind howls around him; someone,  _ something _ is watching.

Brock sighs. It would be so easy to let the darkness swallow him whole as he kept on. To openly embrace all that lurked in the shadows instead of tightening his jaw and reacting to his primal need to survive.

He just wasn’t scared, hadn’t been for a long time. This one game in the woods, he knew it all too well; it was too familiar.

He paused near a creek bed, eyeing every twitching branch in his line of sight. “Jack. Stop creepin’.”

_ This was always just like old times. _

There is a shift in the air, like a stilling of nature, abnormal at all fronts and one of the closest indicators Brock got when something inhuman was nearby.

“I was wondering how long you’d go for before you called me out.” Jack smirks, slipping out from between two trees and away from the shadows. The flashlight causes his features to glow, smile widening as he stares unashamedly with those perfect mossy hues.

The werewolf approaches him like he’s just stunned his prey and Brock’s own response to it is to step in closer. His shoulders are just as broad as Brock remembers them and he still collects that dark stubble across his scarred jaw.

Jack looks stupidly good too. He looks like he always does so Brock shouldn’t be surprised, but he still is and he can’t help mentally taking notes like it’s the first time he’s noticed all over again. The surge of attraction picks up in his belly once more and it bleeds through his entirety all too quickly. He doesn’t know exactly what Jack does to get his interest up, but he just does.

Brock blames the quick tempo of his heart to adrenaline, and he can’t help drawing his eyes to the bit of chest Jack’s showing off because the man decided he was too good to use the buttons on his Henley and just left it open. He lets the backpack strap slip from his hand and fall to his side as the wolf edges closer still.

Now it really feels like one of those predator and prey moments, red flags always going off whenever they meet like this with how intense Jack’s eyes are locked on him and there’s a building urge in Brock to tilt his head and bare his throat to him.

Despite how he’s missed him the past year, he’s not ready to see him now, trying to keep his thoughts together. He still roamed with the other wolves that live in this territory, he’s not a human to be underestimated, but around Jack he still feels weak and small, vulnerable like that kid he’d met almost 12 years ago.

He is ready to fight tooth and nail if Jack provokes him as sometimes he tends to do, doesn’t always have the proper  _ manners _ around the general human population, why he’s got so many bouts of leaving so abruptly before he’s back again and always picking up where he left off.

The only real change is how Brock’s finally old enough, wise enough to understand the way Jack looks at him these days; like he wants to spread him out and lick him clean, mark him up enough to just barely draw blood and savor in it just before he devours him whole.

It’s a feeling that Brock can go for these days.

“They have informed me you have uninvited ghouls from the North closing into town lately.” Jack finally says.

“Well, you know how insistent they can get.” Brock shrugs casually. “Is that all ya came ‘ere fer?”

“For now.” Is all Jack offers, his smile getting wider as he tilts his head just a touch. He’s obviously holding out on him. 

Brock shared the smile, lifting his backpack off the nest of leaves. “Should we go pay ‘em a visit then?”

“_Yes_.” Jack hisses out, his features change as he drops on all fours, stretching and shifting, rich black fur engulfing his entire body. To this day, Brock hasn’t tired from watching him do that.

*****

It turns out, if you weren’t a card carrying fan of eating human flesh (Jack doesn’t count for this), you weren’t very welcome to have a  _ discussion _ on territories.

A few years ago, Brock realized he only felt alive when he was killing something. Protecting the town, the citizens that didn’t know what lurked beyond the shadows, how he worked with some of those creatures, those were all just a bonus..but a good one.

Pushing out all the raw negative energy made him feel pleasantly satisfied, and the wolves saw it too, brought him into the fold as one of their own.

“This is kinda like yer hockey thing.” He calls to Jack as the shovel severed another ghoul’s head clean off, watching it lob across the dirt and hit the ground with a wet splat before rolling a few feet. “Yeah all right, maybe more like baseball come to think of it.”

“Mm.” Jack hummed. “Depends on the location and what century it is.” Brock could see the amusement across his face despite the fact that it was covered in blood and brain matter right then. “Also, she’s still moving, you lose some points.”

“God yer so fuckin’ old. Is this how ya treat yer dates too? No wonder yer single.” Brock pants, loosening up his shoulders and readjusting the handle of the shovel to position in again. “And that was clearly 5 points, she’s jus movin’ because of them death twitches. Don’t be a cheat.”

“I’m not cheating, this was from you, and I quote: 'If they’re twitchin’, still free game.’ and it’s still twitching.” Jack shook his clawed hand outward, viscera arcing across the sidewalk.

“That was a joke rule, ya inbred mutt.” He grins at the minor look of irritation Jack flashes him, ducking his head just in time to avoid a ghoul wildly swiping at him, the butt of his shovel driving it back in surprise before Brock swings it around and stab it in the chest.

“I’m still winnin’ by 8 points, this one ain’t twitchin’. Go home, yer an embarrassment to yer pack.” Taunting Jack was one of his favorite pastimes and tonight wasn’t any different. There’s a howl in the distance, and then another, Jack cocking his head to the side before turning back to him.

“They’re finished.”

There’s only two more ghouls left to dispose of and they’d be in the same predicament. Jack’s already two steps ahead of him, barreling through the pair and tearing through them like a mindless killing machine.

Brock may have pouted. Ten points for Jack.

“Fuckin’ cheater.” He gripes, tossing the shovel onto the grass.

“I’m only playing by your rules.” The wolf tosses back. “Besides with a handful like this, if I really tried, you’d still be getting your bearings before the first swing.” 

Brock knows it’s the truth, can’t argue that much. “Yer still a damn cheat.”

“Fine then, next time I’ll put my chivalrous nature away and  _ then  _ you can call me a cheat. Currently, you’re just being childish.” 

“Sayin’ you were jus lettin’ me down easy with the kills and calling  _ me _ childish, yeah, that’s  _ real _ charmin’ fer a first date. I say it again, no wonder yer single. Yer like the one werewolf in the world people  _ don’t _ wanna have sex with.” Despite the snide comments, Brock felt his face flush. He kicks at a ghoul’s head close by. “Borin’.” 

“I enjoy being _boring_, as you say. I’m not the one always interested in why I’m single or not. You could fix that for me by the way.” 

Brock feels his face heat further, tries to avoid saying anything else about Jack and relationships with a roll of his eyes, stepping over a body and heading in the general direction of where the others were stationed. 

His arm is snatched, and he turns to say something when Jack grips firmly to his chin and Brock’s given up trying to struggle from that vice-like hold. He’s not examining the fresh wounds, the splatter of blood along his jaw and whatever ended up in his hair. He’s sizing up the blotchy purple mark around his left eye, tilts Brock’s head a little to get a better view of the healing cut mostly hidden by his hairline.

“I could kill him, if you like.” Jack is so casual, his wolf-like features melting back within him and Brock’s distracted by those mossy green eyes again. He’s pretty sure Jack’s eager for the word of permission to do so and it’s a little weird having someone’s life in the palm of your hand like that. 

When Jack finally loosens up and now Brock pulls his head back.

“Ya always offer, I always say no. Why do ya keep doin’ it?” 

Jack merely shrugs, glancing around to nothing in particular. “Hoping one day you’ll come to your senses.”

“You always wanna kill someone, don’t you have other hobbies besides that?”

“Untrue, I don’t want to kill you.” He looks almost offended.

And that’s.._something_. Brock falters a step before he continues on, can feel the tips of his ears warm now.

“Still, it’s a bad thing to wanna do.” Brock shrugs casually as he keeps on walking. When he realizes Jack’s not following, he pauses to look back in realization. “Yer not comin’ with?”

Jack gives him a too wide smile, bloody hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m just an asset, not that I blame them.” 

Brock can’t help the scowl that appears across his face. If Jack would only  _ talk _ to them, or the other way around, then he wouldn’t be disappearing for months on end. He hates it, hates all of _this_. He hates wondering when Jack will show his face again while life carried on in their sleepy little town without him. Hates not having him so near he can always feel the heat rise off his body. Hates that he’s become the one person in his life he trusts the most.

He doesn’t say any of it, of course.

He deflates a little though, nods because he should catch up with the pack. 

“Thanks..fer everythin’.” He offers up, and means it. All of it. Catches the way Jack blinks in minor surprise, like in a state of awe for one quick second before it’s gone again. 

“Sure. Anytime. If you change your mind, you know my number.” He gives him a little wink before he slips into the forest and Brock loses track of him in the shadows much too quickly.

*****

It’s a few months later when Jack contacts him next. It’s heading for 1am and he’s trying to kill way too many enemies on the game he’s playing with much too little health.

He hits the speaker and tries his best to salvage himself. “Jack, coulda called earlier.”

“I know you’re not sleeping so quit complaining.” 

Now he’s got his attention, and Brock tosses the controller onto the bed. “What’s up?”

“The moon’s almost full and I’m feeling twitchy, I need some company.”

If he didn’t have his attention already, Jack definitely did now. “Oh yeah? Yer place?”

“Come to the diner.”

He ends the call before Brock can ask why, leaving him staring at the screen for way too long before finally deciding to get a move on, using his window as an exit this time.

Almost twenty minutes later when Brock enters the little all-night diner, he immediately spies Jack in the back corner all on his own and shoveling half a steak into his mouth.

“Ya know, this ain’t exactly what I was picturin’ when ya said ya needed some company.”

Jack only looked up for a flick of a second, shoving a half-eaten roast chicken his way. When did the diner have whole entire rotisserie chickens sent out as meals?

“Eat.”

Brock frowns, but he reaches out and grabs one of the drumsticks just as a waitress comes over with a tray holding three different kinds of cake. “We have these three left, honey. If you want us to check the pies- “

Jack shakes his head, sliding the saucers onto the table that already had a dish of pasta, a large basket of fries, and a half empty milkshake. “Thanks, Jen.”

“You’re welcome, Jack. If you need anything else, just give me a shout.” Her eyes lingered a little while longer on him while Jack had already left the conversation, hyper-focused on gorging himself and forking some coleslaw into his mouth.

Brock watches her walk away and ate his chicken in peace, tosses the bone onto an empty plate used for garbage before swiping the chocolate shake for a sip. “Ya didn’t answer me.” 

“You know I need to bulk up.” A slice of cheesecake gets pushed in front of him. “You know I hate eating alone.”

That’s definitely a lie, Jack prefers to be antisocial and eating is one of those events he very much prefers without company, but he doesn’t call him out on it. 

“Eat the cheesecake, Brock.” The wolf coaxes.

Brock looks down at the plate, studies it. It’s then that he notices the meatloaf half eaten and pushed to the side, next to the napkin dispenser like Jack hoarding it for later. The other two slices of cake were chocolate and black forest, he wonders if he will be forced to eat those too. Not that Jack’s forcing him with the cheesecake either but Jack has a way about things.

A different waitress comes by with a set of silverware for him and he accepts with a small bit of confusion. “These ladies are sure set on keepin’ ya happy.” 

“Excellent customer service.” Jack says, not looking his way, teeth tearing into a breast. “They’re used to me by now.” 

He only stops to give him a glare to get a move on while he’s reaching for the fries since Brock hasn’t yet had his first bite.

“So what’s the plan? Gonna eat, go run around all in wolf form while I sleep, what?”

Jack waits.

“Fuckin’ weirdo.” Brock mutters, sliding his fork into the creamy dessert and bringing it to his mouth, the lemon and cream cheese hits him in all the right ways and his entire body relaxes.

Jack stares. Brock stares back, quietly wondering if this was another one of those werewolf things he will never get used to, or if this was just a _Jack thing_. He takes another bite in an attempt to ignore it.

There was some whipped cream still on his fork and he can’t help licking it off to chase the light sweetness.

That’s the moment Jack emits a low growl.

“Yer the one who offered up the cheesecake, I coulda happily eaten the chocolate yanno.”

Jack chuckles, licking at his lips as he continues to watch him eat. “And you’re fully aware that there’s other reasons aside from food aggression on why we growl.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Something at the back of Brock’s mind tells him it would be a good idea to switch subjects but he can’t really be bothered, not with the way he’s being looked at right then.

“Ya don’t say? Should give me a refresher course on why then, got all that twitchy energy inside and all.” He edges, the tip of his thumb slipping between his lips to suck off some cheesecake residue it caught.

Jack only smiles in return.

*****

“Oh fuck.” Brock cries out as he falls back, feels the warmth of Jack’s hand protecting the back of his skull as he tumbles against the forest floor. He definitely wasn’t ready to roll around in shrubbery and foliage deep in the forest but laughs about it either way, pulling Jack closer.

“We’ve got all night you know.” Jack hovers over him with a smile Brock’s kinda in love with, free hand propping himself up. He’s already pleased that he managed to pop most of the buttons off the werewolf’s fancy looking shirt. “No need to act so spry.” 

“Spry? The fuck is that?  _ God _ yer so damn old, Jack.”

“I doubt making fun of my age will be much of a thought come daytime.” Jack points out. His confidence is admirable, Brock has to give him that. He stares down at him, the stars all draped out behind him. “Now tell me, what do you want from me?”

Brock blinks up at him in sudden surprise, hesitating a moment. “What? Ya mean there’s a choice?”

Jack laughs, all sharp teeth that Brock supposes should feel sheer terror coming in. He doesn’t though. He never has, even when he was five and approaches the black wolf skirting the edge of the woods. Jack dips his head and they share another hungry kiss. “For you? There’s always a choice, I promise.”

Dexterous fingers slip past the waistline of Brock’s jeans and he can’t help but arch into Jack’s hand when he’s palming his dick.

“Where’s this goin’?” Is what comes out of Brock’s mouth instead of all the possibilities running through his head while a werewolf had a hand on him. 

Questioning brows knit together. “I assumed you were well versed in where this is going.”

Brock’s eyes widen, narrowing them right after. “I meant, yanno.._us_, and..stuff.”

“And stuff.” Jack teasingly parrots back against his lips and Brock moans against his warm, wet lips just before his tongue licks across his mouth. “Very helpful.”

“Shut up, yer hand’s on my dick, gimmie a break! Jus answer me.”

Jack draws his head back to stare, studying him carefully with dark piercing eyes. “You’re well aware wolves prefer having a bonded mate, do you not?”

Brock feels the blood rushing to his ears. “‘Course I do, not all though.”

“True, but I’m not one of them. I plan to keep you. I’ve always wanted to keep you.”

Brock stares at him, waiting for a punchline, but Jack doesn’t follow through.

“That means I’m with ya fer life, right? Wait, did ya jus propose to me? No, wait don’t answer that when yer hand is still gropin’ me.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack presses a kiss to his lips. “We’ll talk about it later, right now what would you like?”

He’s not mentally prepared for all this.

Jack seems to pick that up almost immediately, continuing on. “For example, I could get you off with my mouth if you like, fingers are a possibility..or maybe fuck you on your hands and knees- “

“I don’t get to fuck you?” Brock interrupts. His head feels a little dizzy and the blades of grass tickle against his neck.

“No.” Jack chuckles, like it’s a cute joke. “Though there are other ways you’d fuck the life right out of me, I’m sure of that much.”

Hand now a little slick, Jack gives his dick a gentle tug to cajole him back to the present. Brock’s surprised by the pitchy whine he lets out, embarrassment washing over him. 

He pulls Jack in, as another high cry escapes and he’s desperate to distract himself, burying his face against the crook of his neck, his own hot breath pushes back up against his cheeks. His teeth sink into the skin when Jack gives him a firm squeeze, and Brock tastes the slight mix of copper in his saliva, runs his tongue against the mark in apology.

“I ain’t gonna lie, not gonna last too long with where yer hand is.” He drops his head back to stare at Jack again, his eyes seem to track every muscle movement. “But later, definitely later tonight, be my first.”

Jack smiles. It looks a little dangerous under the stars, but Brock wouldn’t have it any other way. “Gladly.”

He’s distracted by Jack pressing his mouth to his for another soul stealing kiss and then suddenly he’s got no pants on, actually he has no clothing on. There’d be a complaint about stupid werewolves and inhuman speed, but then Jack’s naked too, flushed hard body against his and he’s pinned like prey about to be devoured. Brock slips his fingers into Jack’s hair, grips at it almost painfully and keeps his wolf close. He refuses to let him go now.

Jack hasn’t stopped telling him what he wants to do to him, fantasies growing much more graphic, further unapologetic, as his mouth brands claiming marks across his skin. His own hand grips Jack’s cock, works them together with a whimper.

Each roll of hips sends waves of lightning quick sparks up Brock’s spine and Jack’s touch is firm over the head of his cock.

He knows not all the wolves they both align with will find their getting together as a good thing, despite the fact that a few of them have been waiting, and making jokes at his expense. But Jack’s always been there for him through thick or thin. Even when he wasn’t there physically, Brock still knows he was always keeping tabs.

Thoughts are slow to form in the present, he can’t put together proper strings of words with the way his tongue feels so heavy in his mouth, the pressure was just a tad touch from perfect and too much all at once. Pants and pleas fall from his lips without hesitation, and if Jack was to offer to change him right then, he’s unsure if he could deny him.

“That’s it, baby.” Jack murmurs. “Just relax and let me take care of you.” 

Brock lets himself sink into Jack’s touch, allows himself to drop his head back, savor the way he finally knows the way Jack’s tongue feels tracing bruised skin. It’s over too soon, body bowing taut off the forest floor as he cums.

They still have a few hours until morning light will pour in, and Brock’s left wanting more just as he feels a sticky wetness hit his stomach. Jack’s stupidly beautiful when he orgasms, he knows they’ll have a lot of explaining to do when someone finds this spot no matter how well they’d clean up. He can’t be too bothered though, wants everyone to know, wants Jack to stay still for once and be here every day.

His eyes slowly open and Brock stares back at green eyes watching with a kind of high he’s never seen and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, hand slipping from hair and cupping his werewolf’s scruffy jaw.

“Let’s go back to yer place. I wanna feel every part of ya inside me.”

And for once, Jack suddenly looks soft, albeit a little dopey. Not confident or aloof as he usually is, and it makes Brock love him so much harder.

He’s already waiting when he tilts his head and lets Jack give him another claiming kiss. He’s been waiting for a lot of Jack without exactly knowing he was, and now he’s finally glad he doesn’t have to tiptoe around about it any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from No Rain by Blind Melon <3


End file.
